


Like eyes in the mist

by Subtle_Shenanigans



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Fantasy, Fiction, First Meeting, Gen, Injury, Just a drabble, Mist, Not as fancy as I would lije, do not repost to another site, he’s probly a cat who knows, hit by car, no beta we die, obscure mammal, unnamed is Horizon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27891253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Subtle_Shenanigans/pseuds/Subtle_Shenanigans
Summary: Prequel toHorizon
Relationships: Unnamed & Novi





	Like eyes in the mist

**Author's Note:**

> There’s a specific song in my head that I can’t identify, and I saw a picture of a deer in the mist looking at headlights (a good distance away).
> 
> Anyways, be aware of tags please.

The mist is thick, and all around him. His coat is heavy.

He’s hesitant to step out onto the gravel; he’d rather keep the cool grass under his paws.

But he had to cross.

It was sometime in the early night; the split-night had not yet been reached. He’d travelled far since Mid-day. He was tired and worn. Every hair, every whisker quivered.

But his body thrummed and said he could not stop. Not yet.

. . .but he feared the gravel-road. Something was foreboding, and it was not the night.

Before he could make conscious thought, he was padding out onto the gravel, alert for change. It seemed quiet, just the bugs that trilled and chirruped.

And then, a rush of wind.

But it was only the sound of wind, he felt none of it. And instead of running forwards, he turned right, to see swelling eyes that reflected the moonlight loom-

He tensed to run as they grew.

But it rammed through the mist and all he knew after was dark.

* * *

_Oh nameless child, for what do you seek?_

_He has sought the folk-_

_No. It is not his fault he got caught up with the folk._

_Hsh! He sleeps._

_No, see! He awakens! He-_

“-wake up! C’mon! Please!”

He groans. He aches. Something bats at his face. He aches some more.

“Wake up! It only glanced you! Wake up!”

The heavy leaf keeps smacking his face. It’s not that hard, but it’s very noticeable.   
  
Suddenly, he opens his eyes.

It’s some kind of mouse, no, rat, no it has wings - a bat. It seems worried, nose flaring and wings outstretched. It stops its assault.

“Oh thank goodness,” it breathes. It’s voice is high and squeaky, almost shrill but without the discomfort. “You were on the gravel - got hit. Well, actually it glanced you, ‘cause nothin’s broken and you’re not dead. So.”

He drags himself up, confused. Because he knows he was hit. Remembers that much. But he keeps his mouth shut, merely dips his head in thanks.

It - she, he finally can scent - breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank skies. I can’t stand seeing anyone left on the gravel. Awful way to go; really awful.”

She twitches a bit when he doesn’t answer, just takes a moment to breathe and be alive. After a moment, she says, “I’ll be back, okay? Now you stay here. I’ll be right back.”

And then she jumps and launches herself into the sky, unfurling and zipping away. He lifts his head, mostly his eyes to try and follow, amazed.

Then he buckles and tries to calm his racing heart.

* * *

By time she comes back, he isn’t panting, but he feels dehydrated. Strangely not hungry, though.

He checked and he’s not dead; has all the parts all in place, his heart steady. She ends up bringing some sort of thing with a bent branch. It’s filled with water.

She shrugs as he pokes it with a paw. “It’s a folk thing; this one has been lost. So I used it.”

It has indeed been lost; it’s got rough edges with dirt caught in them, it’s fake-color faded from the sun. But the water is real and fresh, and he gives thanks for that.

The bat stays the night.

* * *

She stays longer than that.

* * *

By time he is ready to go again, that lead calling him, she announces she will follow.

They’d gotten to know one another well enough. Her name was Novi, and she was fine with night or day. She ate bugs and fruit, but had wicked little teeth and claws. She was gentle when she sat on his back though, like he insisted, so she not fly all the time. She was smaller and tired quicker.

He gave no name, and she did not ask.

Instead she perched and chattered as he began to pad towards the horizon.


End file.
